Prekrasnyy
by XxthesarcasticonexX
Summary: "Dr. Banner, I inform you that-" "A little late there JARVIS." Her voice startled him, making him turn from where he had been standing, towards where her voice sounded. "Hi, Agent Romanoff." / Bruce is living in the tower, Natasha is just passing through, needing a place to change in order to complete her current assignment.


AN: Still don't own it. Have no interest in owning. All I want is for Bruce to return and for Natasha to pick up Thor's hammer.

Again, all mistakes are my own.

This takes place after Avengers, but before The Winter Solider.

* * *

Tony had gone out of town for the weekend and had left Bruce to mind the Tower all on his own –again.

Bruce hadn't minded the responsibility, the Tower practically ran itself; with the help from JARVIS, all Bruce had to do was make sure the AI system remained running and he could kick back and enjoy the little perks which came with living at the newly renamed Avengers Tower.

It was a huge building, which was normally occupied by two people and one AI system which would sometimes feel like a third person, yet others like it wasn't there at all. Two people, one of them being Tony Stark, whom Bruce had decided long ago, counted for at least ten people.

Agent Romanoff had warned him that day at the park, about living with the billionaire; how Tony was egotistical, over the top and often self-absorbed. It was true, Tony was all those things, but he was also something else, something the spy hadn't taken into account–Tony Stark wasn't afraid of the Hulk, and that to Bruce meant a lot.

So he had come to tolerate and even appreciate Tony's wild nature, almost missing it whenever he went away.

Bruce woke that particular morning with a bit of a headache, probably due to mal nourishment from staying up so late and forgetting to eat dinner. So, it was one of those mornings when the Tower's silence and steadiness greeted Bruce and he welcomed them with a content sigh. Bruce had come to care about the iron man as if he were a brother, but Bruce considered himself a man who would always favor peace and quiet –so he found a certain beauty in the days where such things were present.

All things considered, those days weren't many.

But they were days Bruce enjoyed, days were he could blast his choice of music throughout the Tower without Tony whining or teasing; days when he could –as he had done the previous day- lock himself in his lab and work on his stalled projects until he couldn't see straight; days where he could allow himself to _be_ himself without worrying about anyone else.

With a groggy mind and a sudden hunger, Bruce got up from his bed and realized he hadn't even bothered in changing his clothes last night. He shook his head, trying to make the pounding pain go away, and when splashing his face with water didn't work, he realized he needed substance, mainly coffee and something filled with carbs.

So he stumbled out of his room and headed towards the kitchen, amicably chatting with JARVIS, the AI program telling him off for his 'unfit personal care', words which Bruce was sure had come from Tony.

He munched on some toast, while talking to JARVIS about how the security in the building was run, asking how Tony had managed to program the Avenger's bio-codes without their knowledge. In the end the AI had refused to give up his creator's orchestrations and Bruce had to smile at the AI's loyalty.

"Dr. Banner, I inform you that-"

"A little late there JARVIS."

Her voice startled him, making him turn from where he had been standing, towards where her voice sounded.

"Hi, Agent Romanoff."

"-Agent Romanoff has bypassed my security, again."

"You'd think Stark would have upgraded his security after SHIELD has managed to crash it -is it three times, now?" She commented as she approached the doctor, a sly little smile on her face.

"Four ever since I've been here." Bruce supplied, taking a bite out of his toast after, an amused little grin also planted on his face.

Ever since the battle of New York, each Avenger would occasionally pop by the Tower for a quick visit, their reasons almost always being needing a place to sleep while they passed through New York. Natasha and Steve were the most frequent visitors.

So it wasn't the first time Natasha had ever barged in on the doctor.

Natasha went straight for the fridge, grabbed a cold water bottle and chugged it down in one go. Bruce only raised his eyebrows in amazement.

"Tough journey back?" He inquired, both out of curiosity and genuine interest. Out of all the Avengers who would sometimes crash there, Natasha would always be the one with the most interesting and cryptic stories.

"Long, more than tough. Clint dozed off for the majority of it, left me talking all by myself for the ride." Natasha answered with an amused smirk, grabbing one of the sandwiches she knew Bruce always kept the fridge stocked up with. It was one of the things she had learned ever since the battle of New York, the little quirks that the quiet doctor had.

She had begun observing him as soon as the initial wave of shock and trauma had wavered after the events of the Helicarrier and the battle of New York, having decided to confront her still lingering - _hesitation_ towards the doctor and his alter ego. She had found the doctor more than refreshing, she had found him -curious. She had quickly realized she enjoyed his company whenever she visited the Tower. Bruce was quiet and mostly kept to himself, occasionally joining her for a quick meal or a drink.

"Barton will be Barton, right?" He offered, a little teasing smile playing on his lips.

"Don't I know it?" She threw back, smiling gracefully at him before disappearing through the door. She had things to do and couldn't waste any time.

Bruce watched her leave and gave a half smile to himself, Natasha Romanoff was a lot of things, many of them things Bruce was not completely comfortable with, but she was also the only mystery Bruce had long ago accepted he would never quite figure out. That didn't stop him from allowing himself to be fascinated by the woman from time to time.

* * *

JARVIS had actually kicked him out, had shut the lights and the equipment in the lab off, explaining to him that Tony had left specific instructions to 'not let Bruce overwork himself into the Hulk'. Bruce simply had rubbed his eyes at the recording of his friend which JARVIS had provided.

A sarcastic and amused laugh came out of him. He could ignore the AI, could try and reprogram it; he could even get Natasha to help, knowing she was currently in the building. But Bruce decided against it, choosing to humor his friend for once. Besides, he ended up thinking, he could use a little break from his work.

It was nearing eight o'clock, and as Bruce headed down to the TV room, he suddenly realized he hadn't seen or even heard Natasha since breakfast that morning. It wasn't unusual for the spy to keep to herself, especially when working (which Bruce assumed she was), so the thought came and left Bruce's mind quickly.

He flopped down on one of the sinfully comfortable sofas Tony had picked out and clicked one of the TVs in the room on. He mindlessly scrolled through the channels twice over, not entirely used to relaxing on couches before ten at night, the feeling of having to be working still lingering on the back of his mind.

"Take it easy doc, I'm sure you're capable of toying with JARVIS for an hour or two before he can let you back in your lab. That is, if you don't need me to –gently persuade the AI?"

Bruce startled again and turned his head towards where he heard her voice.

"Hey, you going out?" He asked, seeing as how she was dressed up in her uniform, guns on their holsters, perfect -slightly longer, yet still curly- hair in place.

"No, getting in actually, have to change for my next job. You truly were deep in work, huh?"

Bruce fought a blush, readjusting his glasses as he flipped the channel once more, deciding to keep it at what appeared to be a showing of a Katharine Hepburn movie, _Bringing up Baby_.

"I might have zoned out at around noon, to be honest. You know about my exile from my own room?" He looked at her as he spoke, curious in what her facial response would be. Bruce was not an expert like he knew her to be, but he had always -from that peculiar moment in Calcutta- known how to read (at least) a part of her; they both played some version of the same game.

"JARVIS might have spilt your little secret as I arrived." She answered, her smile honest. "I'll see you around doc." Natasha claimed as she turned and headed out.

Bruce's eyebrow shot up as he noticed a slight limp in her left footing. He rubbed his eyes as if that would help him get a better assessment, but saw the limp was gone.

Natasha Romanoff owed him a story.

Thinking about what the spy had said, Bruce kicked back on the couch, tried to let his muscles relax and his brain shut out as he listened to Katharine Hepburn's pleasing and wit-filled voice as she stole Cary Grant's car. He always did like Katharine Hepburn, and maybe Natasha had been right, maybe JARVIS could be persuaded into letting him back in after an hour or two.

* * *

For the first time that day, Bruce heard her coming in, the click of heels giving her position away. So this time when she spoke, he didn't startle, his attention fully focused on the screen, actually enjoying watching two adults trying to sing a leopard off a roof.

"Has anyone asked Steve if that was how they really talked back in the 30's and 40's?"

"I thought you were the one who saw the good ol' Captain last?" He threw at her, with a hint of playfulness in his voice Natasha deduced he must have gotten from watching the movie.

"I think Stark was the last to see him, something about an apartment he could rent him." She commented, moving towards Bruce, watching his easy breathing and full concentration on the screen. When Dr. Banner got engrossed in something -be it science or entertainment, he gave it his full attention.

They were alike in that way, a shared -passion for their work. It was a trait Natasha allowed herself to admire, even if the doctor was one of the few people on earth who could still put her on edge.

"I see you finally relaxed." She found herself commenting as she moved behind him, staring at the TV, quirking her head as she came to realize she actually recognized the film.

"I guess, I'm calm enough." Was his response, a bit strained and doubtful, even if Natasha could tell by his posture and breathing he truly was –serene.

"She was pretty, you a fan of hers?" She asked him, a sly, cattish grin on her face as she watched him flutter at her question.

"More like a fan of the era, but yes, she was very -pretty." Bruce gulped as he finished his sentence. He had turned his head as he had answered her question. He had felt her close, and his curiosity had won him over and had prompted him to turn and look at the spy.

She had almost rendered him speechless, dressed in a tight, slinky, long, black, strapless dress. It hugged her body in a way Bruce had never seen a dress do to anyone. Her red hair was perfectly curled and she had on heavy makeup; thick, black eyeliner and full, bright, red lips which Bruce suddenly found himself not being able to stare away from.

Ever since Calcutta, Bruce had known Natasha Romanoff to be an attractive woman, and he would never have denied it if anyone had ever asked him about it. But he had never before even dared to think that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was –beautiful.

Natasha could tell she had made an impression, and she fought back the little smirk she wanted to give him. Bruce wasn't an asset or a target, or anyone in her playing field tonight, he was a - teammate? Comrade? Friend?

"I don't think I've ever seen this one." She murmured, acting as if she hadn't noticed the impact she had made on the good doctor.

"You don't know what this is, do you?"

The question wasn't uttered with judgement towards her, but with more of a disbelief towards him, as if he were making fun of himself for liking movies that had been made in the 30's. Natasha found it amazing how he managed to find faults in everything he did, how unlike the Hulk Bruce Banner was.

" _Bringing Up Baby_ , Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant." She answered him flatly, enjoying how he gave a little smile as he watched how everyone tried and failed to get out of prison.

"I know what movie it is, I just realized I've never seen it before." She added.

"Guess you don't have much time to sit and watch ancient movies in your line of work, huh?"

"You'd be surprised by how many hours Clint plays on his Xbox."

She got a laugh out of him with that comment and Natasha couldn't help but smile along, the picture of a sullen Clint on her couch because he couldn't pass some level and they had to leave for a mission in an hour, very present on Natasha's mind.

"I guess we all have our perks." Bruce added, as he chuckled at something Katharine Hepburn's character said. Natasha listened to the playful banter and the wit of the movie for a few seconds.

"And old, classic films are yours?" She ended up asking him, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I guess you could say that." He answered, even if he had never thought about it that way. Bruce's thing had always been science, he had never been one to contemplate much about what he enjoyed doing in his free time –besides trying to control the Other Guy. He knew he loved to cook -even if his creations were not always the most edible ones, he knew he enjoyed listening to Opera and Classical music whenever he felt overstressed, and he knew he could not die.

"What about you, Romanoff? You play Xbox with Barton?" He teased, clearly picturing her beating Clint at any type of game.

Natasha chuckled and moved around the couch, surprising Bruce by sitting down next to him, her dress following her every move without complaint or wrinkle, her steps calculated and somewhat -airy (Bruce found himself suddenly struggling for words to describe her)?

She turned to look at him, her eyes vibrant, but hard -the eyes of someone far older than what she was.

Bruce gulped.

Natasha ignored the bob of his Adam's apple.

"No, tried it once. He didn't speak to me for a week after I beat him at one of his favorites." She chuckled at the memory, finding a sort of peace in talking with the doctor she wasn't at all used to feeling. But she welcomed the sensation in - if only just for tonight, before what Natasha knew was going to be a very stressful mission.

"Barton." Bruce supplied as he took a swig from a water bottle he had been nursing.

Natasha didn't comment any further, but turned her eyes towards the flat screen, suddenly entranced by the actors and the two leopards in it.

"I knew there was a leopard involved, I didn't know there were two." She broke the silence.

Bruce didn't startle, but answered her inquiry, his voice calm. He liked explaining things, it was one of the first few quirks Natasha had learned about Bruce Banner.

As the film ended, and the replica of the skeleton fell on the floor, Natasha's eyes widen in shock and -she admitted- in horror.

"So, what'd you think?" He found himself asking, his voice a bit shy and tentative, as if he were a schoolboy asking for his date's opinion on something he had done.

Natasha turned to him and locked her eyes with his.

It was hard for Bruce to not be flustered by everything the woman was doing, dressed in one of the most gorgeous gowns he had ever seen, looking like something out of one of the movies he enjoyed watching, like some sort of timeless goddess.

Bruce saw her think, he could see her mind working on what to say, and the thought suddenly scared him more than anything else she had ever done - or could do. There were few people who Bruce respected in the world, even fewer whose opinion he thought mattered, and he was just learning, Natasha Romanoff had suddenly become one of those few people.

It might have been because of what he had done to her on the Helicarrier, or because she had been the agent SHIELD had sent to recruit him back in Calcutta, or the fact that he had always seem to be able to put Natasha Romanoff on edge -and not many could do that. But Bruce found himself -preoccupied with what Natasha was about to say.

"I think, you should make me see it from the beginning because as much as I deduced what had happened, I have a feeling it's not quite the same as actually seeing it. It loses its charm."

"You already saw the ending, I think it'll be hard for it to regain the original charm it's supposed to have."

"I'm sure you'll think of something to make it pleasantly charming." She said to him as she got up, spoken in what seemed like an attempt of reproducing Katharine Hepburn's accent.

It was good, and Bruce raised his eyebrows in both amusement and bafflement. Natasha had always been pleasant towards him, there was a mutual respect each had found for the other after New York, filled with occasional joking and teasing. Bruce felt as if they had suddenly crossed some kind of line.

Natasha laughed at the shock-filled face on Bruce; she grabbed her black clutch and took pity on the good doctor.

"How about you make me see _Bringing Up Baby_ and I'll introduce you to one of my favorites. A movie for a movie?" She asked casually, as she checked her look over in one of the mirrors, making sure everything was in place for tonight.

Bruce watched her, analyzed every single movement she made, entranced by both her beauty and her professionalism. She was a woman on a mission, she was a woman out for a date –she was suddenly many things. Bruce's head started to hurt, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"Sure, do I get any -warnings, as to what you're gonna make me see?" He asked, his eyes teasing, his tone a bit dry, but good humored.

Natasha smirked, at that. "Now, where would be the fun in that?"

"Goodnight, Dr. Banner, and have fun in the lab." She called then, her voice back to being an imitation of Hepburn's accent.

Bruce gave a weak smile, trying to hide the blush which kept threatening to crawl unto his face.

"You know kid, you're pretty good at that." He tried, wincing at his own voice, his accent all over the place.

But Natasha didn't mind, found his little trick endearing, if not a bit out of character for the doctor. Was that Bruce Banner trying to flirt?

"Part of the job." She casually replied, before giving him a quick nod in order to indicate her leave.

But before she completely left the oversized TV room, his voice almost stopped her. It was quiet, a bit strained and nervous -but Natasha heard him.

"You look -nice."

She didn't dawdle, didn't react, but kept on walking as if she hadn't heard his compliment, or his curses following his admission. She closed the door behind her and didn't look back at the man on the couch.

She should have been used to the reaction; she had been getting similar reactions from men her entire life, men fawning over her, lusting over her. But Bruce's admission felt different. She realized it felt different, because it was. While men usually had no objection or problem in making her know exactly what they wanted from her, how they viewed her. Bruce had tried to keep it in, had tried to not mention her dress, or the fact she looked more like a high socialite than the assassin she was.

It was something Natasha wasn't used to, a silent admiration. The doctor was a good man, a bit uptight at times and he still uneased her every time he started getting frustrated over something, but his goodness and natural peacefulness were things Natasha admired.

So it was silly, and Natasha pushed the thoughts to the back of her head as the elevator dinged open. She had a mission, and did not have time to ponder over doctors and their honesty.

But before completely surrendering Natasha Romanoff to the mission, to becoming Natalia Randall for the night, one of the final thoughts she allowed Natasha to have were ones of Bruce, and of the silly movie she had promised to watch with him.

* * *

She arrived back at the Tower a couple of weeks later, Steve had just left and Tony had been locked in the upper floors –courtesy of an annoyed Pepper- for the past two hours.

Bruce was in the kitchen, trying to decide whether to add red peppers to the chicken he had been cooking, or simply leave it as it already was.

She threw the DVD case at him, his reflexes saving his food as he caught the object with his hands, dropping the peppers into the pan.

"I believe we have a movie marathon to catch up on?" Her voice was tired, and as he turned to look at her he realized she looked as worn out as she sounded. But her eyes had a sort of sparkle in them as she spoke to him, a half smile on her face, tired, but honest.

"I don't think we can call it a marathon if we just watch two movies." He answered her, stirring the pan.

Natasha inhaled and her stomach turned at the smell, it smelled divine and after the day –hell, the week- she had had, she craved whatever it was Bruce had managed to cook up.

"How about a bargain then? You let me have a plate of whatever it is you just made, and I'll let you choose two movies?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows but didn't question her motives for her sudden words.

"You sure you can spare the time?" Was what he found himself asking, as he turned the stove off and looked for a plate.

"Let's just say doc, that I'm yours for the day and probably the entire week. Fury owes me that much."

Bruce almost dropped the plate as he heard her words, but quickly composed himself, called himself stupid and idiot and a thousand curses in the languages he knew. He snuck a look at her as he served her a plate, her tired eyes and posture spoke of something even greater than physical pain.

Bruce suddenly remembered what the look in Natasha's eyes was, it was a stare he was more than familiar with –trauma. So he didn't ask anything else, simply handed her the plate and offered her a weak smile.

"Deal accepted Miss Romanoff."

Natasha genuinely smiled at him, his faced scrunched up in disgust at his own attempt of recreating the same accent he had tried to weeks prior.

"Take your plate, it will piss Tony off if we eat in the TV room."

Natasha chuckled at that, but didn't argue with his statement, or question how it was he seemed to suddenly know what to say to her to get her to tense off.

"Uh, umm, you coming?" He stammered, once he realized she hadn't followed him out the kitchen.

He looked flustered and somewhat confused and Natasha smirked as she grabbed the forgotten movie off the counter.

They were almost at the TV room, walking through the corridor which would eventually lead them to the flat screen filled room when her voice cut through the amicable silence.

"What do you think of straight hair?"

"Pardon?"

Natasha continued on, ignoring his confused expression. "Straight hair, I've had it curled for a while now, it's time to change it up. It's either cut it real short, or straighten it out. What do you think?"

Her question was blunt and spun Bruce out of his comfort circle. He stammered and found it difficult to find the words to give her an answer.

Both were standing outside the room, both staring at the other with an interest that hadn't been there a few weeks back.

Bruce gulped.

"I think that whatever you decide, you'll still look-" He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence. But her questioning, soft eyes made his brain conjure up the image of that night, of her wearing that black dress.

"What?" She asked, a neutral expression on her face, even though her insides were both screaming with fear and dying with curiosity –a clash of feelings she had long come to associate with the phenomenon that was Bruce Banner/The Hulk.

"Beautiful." He looked down as he said it, his eyes closed and his fist clenched in fists as if he were mad at himself for uttering the word.

Natasha could have found his answer surprising, but she didn't, not after the last time she had been inside the Tower.

"Straight it is then." She answered, her voice and posture as natural as she could pretend to be.

Because Bruce Banner was unlike any other man she had ever known and so it hadn't been his confession which she had found surprising; but _her_ reaction towards his word, the blanking of any proper responses –that had been terrifying.

"So, _Bringing Up Baby_ first?" She asked, as she flopped down on the couch, plate of sinfully good chicken in her hands.

Bruce gave her a lopsided grin and he gave a light chuckle as he put the movie on.

"Gotta see it before it loses all its charm, right?" He answered her.

Natasha contemplated him for a second, amused by his sincerity and tentativeness.

"I don't think this movie is capable of losing anything, doc, especially charm."

Bruce gulped and hoped it truly was the movie she was referencing, because he didn't think he could deal with any other option.

* * *

AN: So, this wouldn't cooperate with me, and as always, what was supposed to be a tiny little drabble ended up running away from me. But I wrote it and thus am posting it.

Funny thing, I swore this would be my last Brucenat adventure, but then the plot bunny hit and now I'm not sure when it will stop.

If you managed to read this I would appreciate a nice little review. Reviews make authors happy, happy authors don't kill people. :3


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